


This Kind of Luxury

by beautyunleashed



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Eventual relationship, First Date, M/M, Mutual Pining, Otabek is 20, Some Fluff, Some angst, Sugar Daddy Otabek, Yuri is 18, deejay otabek, figure skater yuri, mixtapes, multi intrumentalist otabek, otabek is not a figure skater, otabek's family owns a very big restaurant franchise, pirozhkis, staying the night, sugar daddy side is coming out of Otabek heheh
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-16
Packaged: 2018-10-31 23:47:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beautyunleashed/pseuds/beautyunleashed
Summary: Otabek Altin is a millionaire who's caught an eye for gold medalist Yuri Plisetsky. After taking up an offer on a first date, their relationship will bloom over time, and Otabek will do anything for Yuri. Including buying him things. But that's besides the point.





	1. Motorcycles and Music

**Author's Note:**

> ahhh I'm actually super excited to write this fic and I plan on updating it regularly (every few days if not sooner)(unless something comes up)!! It's been a while since I tried to make a fic with several chapters so we'll see how this goes...
> 
> Anyway, enough rambling, please enjoy the first chapter!!

Yuri stared outside the coffee shop's window, interested in something - no, someone - in particular. He cupped the hot coffee in both of his hands, tightening his grip as he watched a dark skinned man park his motorcycle, unclip hit helmet, set it on the bars and swing his keys as he stood up and got off the seat. He tucked the keys into the front leather pocket on his jacket and whistled as he walked to the door. Yuri scowled as he watched him hold the door open for a family to exit the shop. 

When he stepped foot into the building, everything changed. Yuri ducked his head so he was staring at his coffee angrily. For the first time that morning, he noticed his heart was racing. It had been the entire time he watched the man.

There was no reason for it, he tried to believe. The last thing he should have done was even think about becoming friends with him; he owned a motorcycle. That was the first flag there. The vehicle was a touchy subject with Yuri, a memory he tried to constantly repress. 

The second flag was his undercut. The third was his leather outfit. The fourth was the fact that he was far out of his league. The fifth... Well, Yuri was still working on that one. 

Either way, there were several reasons why he shouldn't be friends with him. Right? But as Yuri stared up slowly from his coffee and eyed the man as he ordered his own coffee, he had a sinking feeling that maybe those were the reasons why his heart was pounding. That they were reasons he should be friends with him. 

Yuri shook his head, losing the thought. No. He promised himself after that incident he wouldn't touch a motorcycle again. Especially if it could cost him everything he held dear to him. Skating was one of those. 

He was taking a small break right now, before the next gpf. He told himself he would go out and do things, go places, you know, because you only live once. Skating may have been his life, but after his life was threatened from his grip, he told himself he would try other things. Get himself out there. 

"Can I sit here?" 

Yuri practically jumped from his chair, almost spilling his coffee in the process. He cursed to himself and sighed as he looked up to find none other than the motorcycle wielding daredevil in front of him. 

"What are you laughing at?" he barked when the man started chuckling to himself. It was one thing to look so damn good, it was another to laugh at him for the same reason he caused. "It's rude to scare people!" 

"I'm sorry, really, but the coffee shop is fairly full. Do you mind?" 

Yuri tapped his fingers on his now cooling coffee and looked him over. He had slicked back hair over an undercut that suit him well, his brown, now emotionless eyes staring at him intently. He was wearing a sort of scarf that was tucked inside the collar of his leather jacket, which he sport well. Yuri had a hard time believing this man was actually asking him that, let alone talking to him. 

"Fine," he muttered. He kept drumming his fingers on the cup, trying to channel his anxious energy through it as the man sat down across from him, setting his coffee down so cooly as if they had been friends for a long time. How was he able to act so natural like this? Yuri squinted his eyes at him when he was looking off in the distance. He didn't even look like he belonged here. 

His eyes started to focus back in on Yuri. He quickly dropped his curious facade and stared at his coffee. "I don't think I told you my name." 

Yuri looked at him without moving his head. "I don't care," he muttered and flicked his eyes back to his coffee. He felt the table shift and when he looked back up the man had crossed his arms and leaned them against the table. "Really?" He hummed. "I don't quiet believe that seeing how you haven't been able to keep your eyes off me since I arrived." 

Yuri felt his face burn. He never got embarrassed like this, it was one of his pet peeves. "How do you even know that!" He crossed his arms diligently and leaned back into his chair, looking away from him. He doesn't deserve his attention, but Yuri was obviously craving it. His fluttering heart and burning cheeks told so. 

"Well, I know now. It was a suspicion." Yuri snapped his head back at him and he grinned. "My name is Otabek." 

Yuri squeezed his arms in response, trying to ball up and hide. Remember, he has a motorcycle? You can't be falling for people like him, he scolded himself. For a moment, he thought about bolting from all of it, but Otabek continued to stare at him with a smug grin.

He had him like putty in his arms before he even knew his name, and he knew it quiet well as he sat there. 

"Yuri," he muttered back. "My name is Yuri." 

"I know," he shrugged, dropping his smug facade again. He took a sip of his coffee as Yuri sat there burning across the table. 

"What do you mean 'you know'??" He said you know with gross mockery and leaned forward towards him as he said it. This guy was getting on his nerves with every minute. He leaned back against the chair with an annoyed click of his tongue. 

"You're Yuri Plisetsky. You won gold in the grand prix final a couple years ago. I do dabble in a bit of skating myself, you know. I watch it some." He shrugged again and took another sip of his coffee. How could he sit there and act like all of this was normal? 

"So you stalked me here?" 

He almost spat out his coffee in a measly attempt not to laugh. "God, no," he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, "I just happened to come to this coffee shop the same time you were here, and you happened to be undressing me with your eyes the entire time. You aren't that special, kitten." 

Yuri burned and glowered his eyes at him. "Shut up, I was not!" he hissed through his teeth. "And it's Ice Tiger of Russia, you idiot. Some fan you are." He meant for the last part to sting, but Otabek was only basking in his mockery with a huge grin. He meant to say Kitten, clearly, and it only made Yuri angrier. 

"What are you all smug for," he gripped, taking a sip of his coffee to hide his annoyance, but it only made him spit it back out. It was extremely cold now. He groaned and moved to throw the cup away when he felt Otabek put his hand on his wrist. 

"Wait," he chuckled. "Let me."

Yuri yanked his wrist back and got up sternly to throw it away. When he sat back down Otabek was watching him carefully. "You don't like people helping you, do you?" he sighed. 

"I'm not weak," Yuri mumbled. The last thing he wanted was people thinking that. He won gold at a grand prix at only age 15! He should be anything but! 

"Then why are you so annoyed by me?" Otabek inquired gently. It slowly dawned on Yuri that he had been standoffish for a while now, but it only suppressed him back into his shell even more. This stranger didn't deserve his thoughts. 

"I'm not." He lied, staring at him defiantly. "Why would I be annoyed by a fan?" 

"I'm not just a fan, I'm really surprised you haven't noticed me by now." He went and dug into his jacket while Yuri stared at him in confusion. What did he mean? There was no recollection of who he was at all, Yuri pondered. Then he handed him a small business card. 

Yuri practically jumped out of his skin when he read the card. "You're- How- You-" He was fumbling to find the right words as Otabek continued to chuckle at his loss. He did look cute, he thought to himself. 

"You're like, completely rich!" he whispered as if someone might hear. But everyone, excluding Yuri, already knew who he was. He owned a very special restaurant in town, one Yuri actually visited frequently for interviews and meetings. It was a very expensive one at that, too. 

"Well, I like to think it more of, well off. I don't like to particularly claim my millionaire title." Yuri almost yelled at that. "Millionaire??? Why are you even talking to me?"

Otabek sighed and looked at him sternly. "My father owns the company, not me, first of all, before you get any ideas. I'm only twenty years old. Second of all, since when does money imply I can't talk to others less well off than me?" 

Yuri sighed and relax in his chair. He was right, he shouldn't have assumed that. But still, his bones hummed with the thought of all this. A millionaire, possibly billionaire family, sat across from him, talking to him as if he was on the same level as him. 

Yuri glanced over to the window and remembered the motorcycle. Otabek caught his gaze and raised his eyebrows. "The motorcycle was a gift from my father. It's got a few years on it now, but it's still in amazing condition. Do you want a ride?" He offered gently, but Yuri had to deny. 

"No, it's okay." He shifted in his seat restlessly. Even though everything in his body told him not to even go near it, he wanted to more than ever. 

"Are you sure? Unless, they scare you or, you already have a ride. I have another helmet, so it's safe. Well, as safe as possible."

Yuri clenched his pants at that. Yeah, safe. Sure. 

"Alright," he stood up, his coffee cup apparently empty. "Well, I'll see you again, hopefully?" He smiled and tossed the cup into the trash. The last thing he wanted was for him to think he didn't want that. 

"Yeah, of course." He stood up also. There were so many things yelling at him to follow after him. To get on the bike. To feel the wind in his hair again. But despite all the reasons why, the reasons why not held him at bay as he watched him leave the coffee shop. 

He turned to leave also, but after he watched him speed off on his bike, his eyes fell back to the wooden table. On it, the business card still lay there. He sighed to himself as he reached out and grabbed it, noticing the number typed cleanly at the bottom of it. He would regret it, he reminded himself, as he shoved the card into his jacket pocket.

Nevertheless, as he walked out into the cold air of Russia, he couldn't help but clutch onto the card and look for Otabek. 

It was hopeless, though. He was far gone down the street. Yuri shook his head. Then he remembered something. 

He never got to ask where he was from.

**

Later that night, he found himself out in front of a nightclub. The moon was high in the sky as he stood in line, chattering subconsciously. Finally, the line moved up enough that he was able to enter. It was a decent sized 18 and over nightclub that he visited rarely, mainly to try and forget things. Not that he drank, no, but dancing... Dancing helped forget. In the bustle on the dance floor he could be himself and forget. 

As he moved and passed the random groups of people his hands were shoved in his jacket pocket, holding his phone in one and the card in the another. He didn't even realize he still had it until he was standing on the edge of the room, staring up at the DJ. 

It was fucking Otabek. 

Yuri muttered something incoherently to himself, mainly because of the loud music, as he moved to the middle of the room and tried to hide in the crowd of sweaty teens and adults. He tried to lie to himself, but the music was really good. And soon he was dancing, trying his hardest to forget, until he was tapped on the shoulder. 

"What do you-"

Otabek was standing behind him trying to hold back a grin. "I didn't know you came here," he shouted over the music. Yuri glared at him. 

"Shouldn't you be up there!" He pointed towards the DJ stand, but someone else had taken over. He sighed. The last thing he wanted was to be on a dance floor with him. 

"I thought I'd come down here," he replied, still smug as a bug. Yuri rolled his eyes and grabbed his sleeve, pulling him out of the hot and sweaty crowd until they were at a set of empty booths. "Sit." He said, climbing into his own side. Otabek quickly sat down, pleased that he actually was complying this time. 

"Since when did you work here," Yuri started, still glaring at him as if he stepped over his own territory. It was true that he liked to come here to isolate himself, which was ironic considering the hundreds of people here. But, it was nice that no one knew who he was, no friends came and bothered him. In his eyes it was isolation. 

"I've been working part time here two nights a week for the past month."

"Okay," Yuri continued, "But why work here if you're basically a billionaire?" If he had that kind of money, he wouldn't do anything except skate. He would live a life of luxury, he would like to think. 

"Millionaire," he corrected smugly, "and because I don't work here for the money. I work here because I actually like deejaying." 

Yuri pondered that for a moment, feeling kind of defeated. He never really thought about that, and he did admit he was way better than the other deejays that he's seen there. 

"Do you have any mix tapes?" He asked sheepishly, picking at his nails as he looked at him. He wasn't even sure that was the correct term, or if that was even a thing anymore. But to his relief Otabek nodded. 

"Yeah, I have a few I guess. I don't play most of them publicly, though. It's kind of a private thing for me." 

Yuri sank into his seat, suddenly feeling like he overstepped his boundary now. But, nevertheless, Otabek added, "I wouldn't mind sharing them with someone, though, if you want to come over. My shift is up anyway." 

Yuri almost didn't catch that he was hinting at him to come over at first. It still surprised him that he was even socializing with him. Maybe the only reason was because he won gold two years ago. Maybe it was just because he liked Yuri. 

Yuri shoved that thought away and met Otabek's eyes. 

"Sure." 

Otabek grinned and got out of the booth, expecting Yuri to follow him. He led them out of the crowd and to the back door, where he assumed workers entered through. He froze when he turned and saw Otabek's motorcycle. He had completely forgotten. 

"Uhh," he hummed, fidgeting where he stood. 

"It's okay if you've never ridden one before. It's just like a bike, except, you know, it's a lot faster and there's no peddling. And I'll have full control, I promise."

"It's not that," Yuri whispered. It was definitely not that. Just staring at the bike gave him chills. Oh god, why had he been so childish and accepted so eagerly? Otabek didn't need to see him like this, practically crying at the sight of a bike. A goddamn bike of all things. 

"Then what is it?" Otabek said, stepping closer to him. Yuri's breath caught when he felt his hand touch his arm. It was a small, but intimate gesture and it made Yuri step back. 

"It's nothing, let's go," he muttered, moving towards the bike, leaving Otabek there. "Which helmet is mine?" He continued, trying to push the problem away, but Otabek insisted. 

"Yuri," he came up beside him and grabbed his shoulder, turning him to face him. Yuri's heart was pounding so hard in his chest he was afraid he could feel it. "I don't want you to do something you're not comfortable with." 

Yuri wanted to lean into his touch and tell him the story, tell him everything that happened. To tell him why even the sight of a motorcycle made him want to run. But he forced a smile. 

"No, I'm not uncomfortable," he lied, trying his hardest to reassure him. "As long as you're a good driver then I think I'll be fine." 

Otabek smiled back, though he wasn't going to take that. He noted that he would ask later as he reached and grabbed the spare black helmet for him. "Here." 

They both clipped their helmets on and Otabek straddled the seat first and then Yuri behind him. "Hold on," he said, and didn't take off until Yuri's hands were wrapped tightly around his waist. 

He could definitely feel his heart racing now.

**

The entire ride there, Yuri couldn't close his eyes. He was so scared that if he did, everything would drop, the world would tilt and then he would black out all over again. It was a normal feeling any time he had to ride a motorcycle since the incident. 

Once they finally stopped, Otabek sat back and unclipped his helmet. Yuri realized he should also, and eventually he stumbled off the bike. 

"You okay?" Otabek asked, smiling again. "I know, the first few times I rode one it was kinda nerve racking." 

"Yeah," Yuri breathed. That's it. He slung the helmet onto one of the handle bars and turned to follow Otabek up the sidewalk to his front door. He still had the key ring on his finger as he unlocked the door and opened it, gesturing for Yuri to enter first. 

"It's a nice place," Yuri said, surprised by how quaint it was. Since he was a billionaire - sorry, millionaire - he mentally corrected himself - he expected a lavish condo with more things than he could imagine. A large screen TV, a pool, a hot tub, a large kitchen. You know, everything you dreamed of having since a kid. But instead there was just a small couch and recliner in front of a decent sized flat screen TV, a coffee table, and it all connected to a kitchen with a small island in the middle that led to a dining area set for four people. 

"I know, I know, you were probably expecting an indoor pool and two stories and the works, right?" He grinned as he set his keys in the bowl next to the door. It was decorated with small cats on it and was sitting on a stool waist high. 

"Yeah, I guess," Yuri replied, realizing he must sound just like every other guest he's had. "That sounds bad though, doesn't it." 

Otabek frowned without emotion and shook his head. "No, I don't think so. It's normal logic, I suppose. I just like living on the simple side. Luxury only goes so far. Especially after living in it most of your childhood - it quickly got old for me. Anyway, let me show you those tapes." 

Otabek started off towards the kitchen again, expecting Yuri to follow like last time. They went through a second door in the kitchen and ended up in a hallway. There was three doors, one was open to a bedroom, the other Otabek pointed out as the bathroom, and the third one at the end of the hallway was their destination. Inside there was an acoustic and electric guitar, a large speaker, a piano shoved in the corner, another mysterious instrument case, and then several stacks of cds, cassette tapes, and one stack of four walkmans. 

"Wow," Yuri breathed. "You really love music." 

Otabek chuckled and moved forward to a stack of cds. "I mean, I guess so. I know how to play both of those guitars, the piano - although it's been a while, so I'll be rusty - and the saxophone. It was something I picked up as a kid," he shrugged, "Something to take me away from reality."

"Yeah, but why? Some of us out there would die for your life," he scoffed, watching as he placed the cd in a cd player on the floor. 

"This one here is one I made recently," he said, completely ignoring his question. He went to push play, but Yuri insisted. 

"Why would you hide from a life of luxury?"

Otabek dropped his hand and stared at him hard. It was if he was waiting for him to drop it and move on, but there was a fire in his eyes that wouldn't be doused. He had to know now. 

"Maybe if you told me why you're scared of motorcycles, I'd tell you."

Yuri froze. They were at an impasse now, staring at each other. He wanted to tell him. He was desperate for that personal connection again, for someone to be able to understand. But what if he didn't? What if he laughed at him? What if it seemed like he thought Otabek would put him in the same incident? No, he doesn't think of him as a bad driver. 

But accidents still happen. 

Yuri found his hands back in his pockets, holding the card so tightly he felt it folding in his fist. "I got in an accident when I was 13," he started. Otabek's eyes softened instantly. 

"It was on my fathers motorcycle," he continued, turning the card quickly in his fingers. "We were going to the market to get something for mother when it happened. Thankfully... Thankfully I didn't lose my legs. My father, he cushioned the impact for me, and I feel so damn selfish for even saying that I am thankful for that. He died. He died that night. But if it weren't for him, if he hadn't of protected me... Well, lets just say I wouldn't have been your oh-so-famous grand prix final gold medalist."

He let the words sink in, feeling his mouth go dry after the confession. He felt so guilty and yet so traumatized by it all. He almost felt like it was his fault. Tears were filling the back of his eyes as Otabek absorbed all of this.

"Hey," he said gently, moving back towards him. Before he could say anything else he wrapped his arms around his shoulders, pulling him into his chest. That was when the tears spilled out onto his jacket. After the entire day and everything feeling so surreal, nothing felt more like home right now, nothing felt more real. 

His hands wrapped around his body and clutched his jacket as he sobbed into his chest. It was so hard to hold back tears, and he surely didn't want to ruin his jacket or that night. Otabek didn't stop him though, he didn't protest. He let him cry it out. He wanted to be a comfort to him, not a stranger. 

Once he felt like he was okay, Otabek pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "It's okay. We're not all perfect. I'm sure your father would have wanted it this way, anyway." His reassurance was soothing to Yuri. He was so, so afraid of denial, or of embarrassment. 

Yuri sniffled and let out a deep sigh, shaking it all out. "Now your turn." 

Otabek's smiled faltered and he nodded. "Well, to most, living a life of luxury is seen as a good and happy life. And for some it is, don't get me wrong. But for me, it was full of parents fighting, bad paparazzi, and ugly rumors. Kids at school either hated me or adored me. Music was the only thing that made me feel normal, like I could belong. I hated feeling so out of the picture from everyone else. I hated being labeled as rich, or snobby, or "too good for you." I hated what money did to my parents, caused them to split up, caused so many unnecessary fights and arguments. Thats why I always scoff at people who wish they won the lottery, or had my life. Some people's heaven was just my hell."

"So that's why you live in an apartment like this?" Yuri questioned tentatively, not wanting to make him feel out of place like everyone else. "I mean, just to...clarify. I don't want to seem like everyone else..." he trailed off, stopping himself before he made it any worse. Otabek only smiled though. 

"Don't worry, you're fine. You're one of the first people to open up to me. But yeah, that is right." He shrugged and moved back to the cd player. 

"I'm honestly exhausted," Otabek said after a second of staring at the cd player. "I want to sit down. We can take the disc into the living room and play it from there." 

And then he was off down the hallway again, disc in hand, Yuri trailing behind silently. His body was humming with all sorts of emotions as he stood by the couch and watched Otabek insert the cd into the player. 

"Have you ever shown someone this disc?" 

Otabek shook his head. Yuri smiled slowly. "So I'm not the only one opening up for the first time tonight, huh?" 

Otabek smiled back. 

"Come, sit down," he motioned towards the couch. Yuri sat down a bit of ways away from him. 

He grabbed the remote and pushed a button until the music started playing. Yuri's eyes slowly lit up at the sound of it, a mix of two songs he wasn't sure of, but either way it sounded freaking amazing.

After the first song was done, he turned to Otabek with bright eyes. "You have to play that at the nightclub!" 

Otabek chuckled at his enthusiasm and put his hands up. "Okay, okay, I doubt it's that good, though." Yuri was practically bubbling with excitement. "Of course it was!" 

"Okay, I'll play it, but you have to promise me you'll be there. I can ask another deejay to play it tomorrow night." He grinned slowly as Yuri realized what he was asking. Was he asking him on a date? 

The next song started playing and Yuri kept staring at him. "You want to go to the club with me tomorrow?" 

"Isn't that what I just asked?" He laughed, and Yuri smiled slowly. 

"It's a date." 

**

Eventually, after listening to more songs and talking about random things, Yuri told him he should probably head home. Otabek agreed, though he was reluctant about it. Yuri could tell from his tone. He didn't say anything about it though, he just followed Otabek outside and waited by the bike as he locked the door. 

Once he had guided him to his home, he parked and Yuri stepped off, handing him the helmet. "Keep it," he said. "It'll be easier that way. I'll come get you tomorrow night? Around eleven?" 

Yuri felt his body shake with excitement as he pressed the helmet against his chest eagerly. "Okay, Otabek." 

"See you," he said, and then he drove off, leaving Yuri clutching the helmet on the sidewalk. As he watched Otabek drive off down the road, he reached into his pocket and pulled out the card. 

He was glad he kept it.


	2. Pirozhkis & Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Otabek and Yuri's first date doesn't go exactly how they planned. Nothing at the least bit wrong with that, though. They like to think it turned out just fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> at first I was really unsure how to start this chapter off but then I got some nice inspiration and I really hope someone else likes where this is going/coming from... I've been so excited about it all day.

Heavy rainfall and thunder rolled in the next day, ultimately canceling their plans. The last thing Yuri wanted was to be on a motorcycle in that weather, so he picked up his phone and dialed his number before he could think twice. 

It rang twice before it picked up. A wave of relief rushed over Yuri when he heard his comforting voice through the other end. 

"Hello?" 

Yuri's heart fluttered a moment and his fingers absentmindedly curled the hem of his shirt in his fingers. He was sitting in the kitchen at the bar, spinning on the stool back and forth. He paused for a moment, afraid he could hear it. "Hey, it's-" he cleared his throat. "It's me, Yuri." 

He could hear the smile in Otabek's voice when he replied, "Hey, Yuri. I see you finally decided to call me?" 

Yuri couldn't hold back from smiling to himself, his face reddening slightly. So he had wanted him to contact him this entire time. "I was...not sure if I should have yet," he confessed. He was surprised that he was already opening up to Otabek, but it didn't stop him from rambling on. "I didn't want to seem..." he was looking for the right words, "too attached?" 

He could hear his deep chuckle and it made him smile more. "I don't think that will be a problem, Plisetsky." 

"Good. It's not like I want to be attached anyway," he hummed slightly, trying to hide his obvious lie. Otabek could probably tell he was smiling just as well as Yuri could tell he was. 

"Yeah, yeah. That's a shame, you know. I have felt a little lonely lately." He heard his fake sigh and tried not to laugh. 

"Okay, okay. I wanted to call you because I'm really worried about the weather," he started. "If it keeps raining like this..."

Otabek's voice softened. "I understand, Yuri, you don't have to worry about it. Maybe if it lets up enough I can come over?" 

Yuri thumbed his shirt and sighed quietly. "No, this fear of mine goes both ways, Otabek." There was a small silence before Yuri added, "I'd love to stay on the phone, though." 

"Oh, what happened to not being attached?" He hummed, the grin clearly spreading across his face again. Yuri hopped up from the stool and couldn't help but smile also. 

"I thought you liked it!" He whined jokingly, moving to the living room slowly. He was enjoying this way too much. It was a good thing he wasn't there in person, because he was blushing way too much to be socially acceptable at this point. 

"Well," he heard Otabek shift, probably on a bed, "I never objected, did I?" 

Yuri smiled more, as if that was possible and sat on the couch. This was the first time in a long time that he felt reassured and, well, happy. He had always been so consumed with skating that he forgot what this was like. 

He was glad he took a break. 

"Okay, well," Yuri said, clearly ignoring his flirting now, "I think I should get to know you before you go taking me to a night club," Yuri started. "That is, assuming you still want to go at other time," he fumbled after, afraid he really was being too attached. 

"Of course I do. I wouldn't have asked you in the first place if I didn't. Go ahead, ask away." 

Yuri's cheeks were starting to hurt from smiling so much. 

"Where did you grow up?" 

Otabek paused a second. Yuri almost was worried that he already hit a nerve, but there was nothing to be worried about.

"I'm from Kazakhstan. Is it that obvious?" He chuckled, soothing Yuri's nerves. 

"Sorry if that was weird... I just curious is all." He chuckled also. "Your turn." 

"Question game hmm, okay." There was a small pause as if he was thinking it over. "Do you have any weird kinks?" 

Yuri's eyes grew wide. "What! That's a total jump from me asking where you came from!" 

Otabek was just laughing on the other end, pleased with his reaction. Yuri felt slightly embarrassed, his cheeks heating up again. "I'm kidding, I'm kidding. Kind of." 

Yuri wanted to hit him. Playfully, of course, but it was still something. "If you're going to ask those kinds of questions you have to answer it first." He hmph'd into the speaker, wishing he could cross his arms. 

"We'll get to that later." Otabek chuckled. Yuri was curiously cute to him, and he couldn't get over it. Antagonizing him was new favorite game. 

"Okay, ask a real question then." 

Yuri had stood up and started to move around the house again, his body buzzing with excitement. This call was going so much better than he expected. Every turn that Yuri showed an anxiety, he reassured it instantly, and was acting completely natural around him. He had nothing to worry about, he realized. 

"What's your favorite color?"

Yuri snorted, "That's what you ask? It's probably red." 

Otabek chuckled also, "Hey, these are important questions. Especially when I get you gifts and things." 

Yuri's eyes widened and he stopped in front of the bathroom door. "Get me gifts?" It wasn't that he disliked the idea; his stomach fluttered at the idea. It was more of a surprise that he would even suggest that. 

"I like to express my affection in more than one way," Otabek replied cooly, causing Yuri smile again. 

"More than one way?"

"Hey, I said we'd get to that later," he warned playfully, and they both started laughing again. 

 

Yuri didn't know he could smile so much in one sitting. For another couple of hours him and Otabek discussed favorite pets, destination places, and other little things. They wanted to soak up everything about the other person. Toward the end of the phone call, Otabek promised that he would take him on a date tomorrow for lunch, since the nightclub closes on Sundays. Yuri couldn't wait.

**

His body was humming with excitement as he stood outside on the wet sidewalk. It finally stopped raining sometime in the middle of the night, which Yuri was so thankful for. He didn't want to have to cancel on Otabek again. 

He saw Otabek round the corner on his bike and he tried to calm his nerves as best as possible. The helmet was clutched in his hands and he slowly put it on as he parked. "Ready?" 

Yuri nodded and slung over the seat behind him, wrapping his arms around his stomach tightly. This was the one part he was worried about. Nevertheless, he pressed his face against his back and closed his eyes, letting his subtle warmth be a comfort in the strong wind. 

**

When they arrived, Yuri was still clinging onto him. His warming presence was addicting, the feel of someone else's body touching his. 

He realized that he was lingering when Otabek sat back and he quickly stepped off the bike and busied himself with taking off his helmet. He could hear Otabek chuckle next to him as he also stepped off and took off his helmet. 

Yuri tried to hide his blush as he handed the helmet back to Otabek by looking away, but Otabek caught his arm. Yuri tended slightly and defensively tried to pull away, but Otabek's grip was tight enough. "You don't have to hide from me," he chuckled. 

Yuri only blushed harder and tried to turn away again, but he felt his hand cup his cheek and gently turn him back. Yuri's heart was racing and he couldn't believe he was acting like this in front of him. The scariest part was that he wanted to lean into his larger hand, to hold it in his own, but he resisted the urge. 

"I'm serious. It's cute, anyway." He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Yuri's forehead. And just as soon as it happened, his hand dropped and he started walking to the front doors of the restaurant, expecting Yuri to follow. 

Yuri stood their dazed for a moment, absorbing what just happened. He felt his finger tips touch his forehead where he had kissed him, the warmth spreading through his body. 

Otabek looked back and Yuri tried his best to suppress his smile as he jogged to catch up to him. 

"So, what restaurant is this?" He started, eyeing Otabek, who suggested it last night. When he had heard that the Russian had never been to this place he immediately offered taking him. Yuri couldn't say no. 

"It's a favorite of mine. It has some nice russian food. I'm really surprised you haven't visited it." Yuri shrugged shyly as Otabek opened the door for him. "Ladies first," he gestured, and Yuri hit his arm on the way in. 

"I am not a lady, okay, and second of all when one is busy skating you don't always have time to scour the towns many many restaurants." Otabek smiled and followed Yuri inside. 

It was dimly lit with fairly average russian decor around. Yuri did like the string of christmas lights around the top, main room. It wasn't too full, but Yuri preferred that. He was tired of suffocatingly full restaurants, like Otabek's. Not that he disliked it, it was more of the whole getting-away-from-skating-things shtick. Not to mention it meant less waiting in line. 

"A booth, please. For two." Otabek stated, taking the lead. Yuri followed behind Otabek as the waitress showed them to their place. Yuri and Otabek sat opposite each other and the waitress set the menus down. 

Yuri looked over the menu and practically squealed when he saw a small platter of pirozhkis. "Oh my gosh, I already know what I want." 

Otabek raised an eyebrow at him as a smile played on his lips. "See something you like?" 

Yuri wanted to throw his silverware at him. 

"No- I mean yes, but you know what I meant!" Yuri sighed and tried to hide his smile. Otabek was laughing again, and Yuri found himself wanting more of it. He loved when he chuckled or laugh. It was such a nice feeling, knowing he can be himself around someone else who wouldn't judge him for anything. Someone he could feel close to. 

"Well, even though that is an impressive feat for someone who just came to this restaurant, I knew what I wanted before I came here. I guess we'll see what it is when the waitress takes our order." 

Yuri agreed. For a moment they didn't say anything, and Otabek kept staring at him with such intensity, but it was a soft intensity, almost intimate. He blushed hard and he was sure he could see it, even under the dim lighting. 

"Quit looking at me like that," Yuri huffed, trying his hardest to stare out the window next to the booth. Otabek put his chin on his hand and smiled cooly. 

"It's hard to keep my eyes off of you, though," he replied smoothly. Yuri's blush deepened and his fingers dug into his arms. 

"I don't know why," Yuri retorted, looking back at him. His heart was racing. 

"Hello, I'll be your waiter tonight," a man chimed in, interrupting their little moment. Yuri let out a soft sigh. "What do you want to drink?" 

They both ordered water, which made Yuri feel even more intimate somehow. The waiter smiled and then asked, "Alright, are you guys ready to order or do you need another minute?" 

"Yes, we are," Otabek took the lead again. Yuri could get used to it, he thought to himself, trying to repress a small smile, his wariness falling off. 

"What would you like to have?" 

"The pirozhkis, please." He replied smoothly, and Yuri had to feign from choking on his own spit. Otabek looked over at him curiously as he regained his composure; thankfully the waiter was busy writing it down on his notepad that he didn't catch his small fit. 

"And you, sir?" 

Yuri stared at Otabek and then back at the waiter before replying. "I'll have...the same." 

The waiter smiled and jotted it down before disappearing to get their food. Otabek slowly turned to face him with a devilish grin. 

"You totally copied my order, didn't you." 

Yuri's eyes went wide. "No! I didn't! I really did want that before you said it. That's why I freaked out. I didn't want to seem weird ordering the same thing..." He trailed off, furrowing his brows. 

Otabek reached over and put his hand on his. Yuri feigned from pulling away as he waited for what Otabek would say. 

"Sure, you keep telling yourself that." Otabek smiled widely and Yuri was ready to throw the silverware now. 

"I'm serious!" He pulled his hand away and crossed his arms. "Pirozhkis are like, my favorite thing ever. My grandpa used to make the best ones for me." 

Otabek chuckled. "Okay, cutie." 

Yuri blushed again. "Stop calling me that." 

Otabek frowned playfully. "But I only just started, cutie." 

He felt Yuri lightly kick his shin under the table. "Stop it." Otabek was having too much fun with this, though. Not to mention the name fit him so well. 

The waiter came back and placed their drinks in front of them and disappeared off again. Yuri thanked it mentally, although it only made Otabek go back to staring at him all intensely again. 

"You're staring again." 

"You can't tell me you don't like it," he retorted. "There's too much blushing for you to say otherwise. Come on, smile for me. I love your smile." 

Yuri blushed harder and couldn't help but answer his demands, smiling shyly. Otabek smiled back. "That's better." 

Yuri felt butterflies in his stomach again. 

Then Otabek ruined it with, "So, I take it from that kick, you like playing footsie huh?" He had the hugest grin on his face. 

 

Yuri tried not to kill him as the date went on, Otabek constantly teasing him and trying to make him blush and smile. Being so open with him felt fresh and new, like slowly peeling off a bandaid that he hadn't touched in years. He was so worried it would go too far, that things would crash and burn underneath them. He was having too much fun to lose it all. 

After finishing their twin meals and coming to the same conclusion that they were fairly tired even though it was still the early afternoon, Otabek insisted on paying the check and taking him back to his apartment with him. The day was still early, anyway. 

When they stepped out of the booth, Yuri was practically drunk on happiness, his smile ever strong. Otabek instantly laced in fingers with Yuri's without hesitation, causing him to tense up slightly. It was all new to him, and even when his heart fluttered he was still unsure of everything happening. Yet, after a moment and a soft look from Otabek, he softened in his hand, letting it be a comfort. It was nice, he did admit, having his larger hand holding his smaller one. He squeezed his hand gently, and Otabek reciprocated the gesture. 

Yuri leaned into his arm as they walked out of the restaurant. His other hand reached across his body so he could hold onto his arm with it. Yuri couldn't see, but Otabek was smiling. 

He pushed through the doors and they walked over to the bike. Yuri was saddened when he had to let go so they could equip the helmet, but it faded when he got to wrap his arms back around his waist. 

On the way to his apartment, Yuri didn't close his eyes. 

**

They both did their routine of dismounting the bike one after the other and taking off their helmets, but before they started to the door Otabek caught Yuri's body in his arms. 

He gasped appropriately, surprised by the sudden gesture, but it was suddenly cut off as Otabek kissed him gently. He pulled back when there was no reply from Yuri and he let out a small breath. 

"Sorry... It was just getting so hard not to kiss you-" 

Yuri cut him off that time, kissing him back with more pressure than even himself expected. His arms moved and wrapped around his neck as he craned on his tip toes to kiss him deeper, begging for more unknowingly. Otabek chuckled in the kiss and pulled back, pressing his forehead against his. Yuri was surprisingly out of breath as he dropped from his tip toes, causing Otabek to lean down further. 

"What was that for?" Yuri breathed, unable to stop smiling. His head was light and dizzy from the moment still. 

"I guess I'm falling for the cutie." He grinned and let go of Yuri, moving towards the door. Yuri glared at him as he moved to the door casually. "What did I say about that!"

Otabek only laughed and unlocked the door. "I don't think you did say anything." 

Yuri glared at him playfully and followed him inside the door. He was going to hit him again, but he stopped immediately in his tracks when he saw a box on the floor. 

"What's that?" He eyed it, pointing at the box, which was decent sized and wrapped in red wrapping paper. Otabek kept humming as he moved and took off his shoes and set the keys in the bowl, ignoring his question. Yuri hit him now.

"What?" He grinned, clearly pretending to be oblivious. Yuri rolled his eyes. "What is that!" 

He wanted it to be a gift for him, but he didn't want to admit that. He also didn't want to be wrong and Otabek call him selfish or conceded. Then again, why would he get him a gift in the first place? This was their first date technically. But then again he was a millionaire... 

Otabek shrugged. "Why don't you find out?"

Yuri's eyes grew wide again and he bent down and picked it up, carrying it over to the couch. Otabek sat next to him, fairly close. It was a midsize box, and he was completely confused what it could be, until he felt something...move? 

"Otabek... What is in here?" 

Otabek smiled to himself, very proud of whatever it was. He noticed at the top there were several holes poked in it. His heart was racing at the very thought of what it could be. 

Yuri very carefully unwrapped it, trying not to hurt whatever was inside of it. Once the wrapper was off, he removed the top of the box.

"Oh my god," he breathed, reaching inside and lifting up a small kitten. It mewed gently in his hands and he surppressed the need to cry, or laugh, or whatever it was he was feeling. 

"You got a kitten? For me?" 

Otabek chuckled at his excitement. "When we played that question game I didn't mean to give you ideas like this!"

"I told you I buy you gifts. But, this would be my kitten, I'm afraid. Don't worry, you can visit all the time, though." He smirked at how smooth he was being and Yuri didn't even care anymore. 

"This would have been really awkward if you didn't feel the same way towards me, though..." Otabek trailed off, taking the box and wrapping paper from his lap. The kitten had already curled up in his lap. 

"So that's what the sudden gesture was for? To answer your suspicions?" 

Yuri almost looked hurt, but Otabek knew better than that. He leaned forward and put his fingers under his chin, tilting his head up so their lips were barely touching. Yuri's face flushed as he stared at Otabek, his breathing picking up. Otabek smiled gently. "Yuri," he breathed, letting the moment linger. "I already knew before you knew, cutie." 

Then he pulled away, leaving Yuri craving for more. "Hey that's not fair!" he whined. Besides, how did he already know? Was it that obvious? 

"Oh, it's purely fair." 

"Well if that's fair then I'm taking the kitten home," he pronounced, but was quickly shot down. 

"But then I won't have anything to lure you over here!" 

Yuri snorted. "That's so not true." Otabek almost expected him to add a tease to the end, but he was wrong. "You have your music at least." 

Otabek rolled his eyes. "Is that so?"

Yuri was about to retort when Otabek captured his lips with his own, kissing him deeply. Yuri hadn't even realized how close they had gotten through the digression and he kissed back deeply, the taste of his favorite pirozhkis on his lips. 

His hand cupped his cheek, kissing him deeper and sucking on his tongue. He felt it move inside his mouth, licking at his tongue and teeth, leaving him hungry for more. But Otabek was only getting him worked up, so when he pulled away his face was flush again, his eyes starting to become heavy. 

"Just for my music, huh?" He breathed. Otabek stared at him, his lips slightly parted; he was just as out of breath as Yuri was. 

"That's not fair, again," Yuri retorted, turning back to set the kitten on the ground. It darted off into a corner when he turned back to Otabek, who put his elbow up on the back of the couch while facing him with a cool smile. 

"If it's not fair, then am I wrong? Or are you just kissing back because you 'feel like it'? Or are you just blushing because you can?" He was trying to pull Yuri out of his shell, get him to say it. Say that he liked him. He wanted, needed to hear it. He was just as exposed as Yuri was in this. 

"No..." He mumbled, smiling slightly. Otabek noted that he was finally getting over the hiding part and he grinned also. "You're not wrong, I suppose." 

Otabek smiled and kissed him again, this time being much more assertive. Yuri squeaked slightly as Otabek wrapped his arms around his waist and pulled him onto his lap. He straddled it and put his hands on his cheeks, his knees dipping into the couch as he pushed forward and kissed him deeper. He couldn't help but notice something hard pressing against his own groin as they made out heavily. 

Otabek held his hands firmly on Yuri's hips, rubbing his sides under his shirt as he gently bit his bottom lip, licking at it and sucking on it. Yuri was moaning softly in between kisses as his fingers slid up the back of his head, grasping for the longer pieces. He didn't realize how much he missed this until now, his body touch-starved. 

He pulled away, afraid he would do too much. Otabek only moved to his jaw and then his neck, sucking on it softly. A moan escaped his lips as he pulled on his skin, nibbling it gently until it was a red, purplish mark. 

His small hands were on his chest now, gripping his shirt. It was obvious to Otabek how needy he was, almost as if he was crossing new territory. He pulled away, breathless. 

"Yuri, are you a virgin?" 

Yuri blushed madly and stared at him, his fingers loosening on their grip. He winced slightly with a small smile, "Is it that obvious?" 

Otabek chuckled deep in his throat and kissed his cheek. "You're an open book, I'm afraid." Yuri laughed also. "I hope that isn't bad," he said sheepishly. Otabek shook his head. 

"The last thing I want is you closing yourself up on me." 

Yuri smiled softly and bit his lip, trying his best to contain his excitement. He hadn't even realized how much his heart was beating in the past few minutes. Otabek only smiled back, and Yuri realized he was still straddling his lap quiet intimately. He sat back and blushed deeply, looking away slightly. 

"You have got to stop hiding like that, though," he chuckled, kissing against his neck. "I'll have you know I like looking at you." 

"Okay, that's only making it worse." He laughed. He was about to get off of him when Otabek's hands slid to his back and he stared at him intently. 

"Will you stay here with me? Tonight?" 

Yuri froze at the request, his drumming heartbeat suddenly very apparent. Otabek didn't break his gaze, though. "You want me too?" 

Otabek chuckled again, his hands moving back to his sides. "You're really clueless to how much I like you, aren't you?" 

Yuri felt like he hadn't stopped blushing in the past five minutes. "No, I just wanted to hear you say it," he grinned, hiding the fact his heart was fluttering. 

"Okay, that's no fair." Otabek laughed and kissed him again.

 

The day trailed on, Yuri and Otabek sitting on the couch and watching random TV shows. Eventually Yuri had got the kitten again and was petting it absentmindedly when his stomach started growling. Otabek decided to order some takeout for them despite Yuri's protests of making him pay for something again. 

After dinner was over, and they played a few games on his console, Yuri was ready to retire to bed. Otabek cradled him in his arms, as he was about to pass out already. Once he laid him in the bed he stripped off his shirt and pants after he asked if it was okay, then did the same to himself. He crawled under the covers and wrapped his arms around his waist, pulling him back against him.

Sleep found them easily, and for the first time Yuri felt at home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the next chapter I have some possible ideas like going somewhere for Yuri, breakfast in bed, some soft fluff kind of things to bring them closer together. I'm really excited ahhhh.

**Author's Note:**

> I lowkey started crying while writing this by the way,


End file.
